


connor and hank have a good ol platonic evening

by kingtatsunari



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Begging, Blow Jobs, Bottom Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Hank Anderson Has a Big Dick, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Safewords, Slut Shaming, Spanking, Spit As Lube, Top Hank Anderson, Verbal Humiliation, don't worry androids can self lubricate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 09:55:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20740322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingtatsunari/pseuds/kingtatsunari
Summary: Connor’s been a bad boy. What is Hank to do but punish him?





	connor and hank have a good ol platonic evening

**Author's Note:**

> (previously titled 'ladies night' since i was writing this fic when they released reve festival day 2,,,)
> 
> enjoy!!!!!!!!

The slam of the front door alerts Connor to Hank’s presence. “Welcome home, Hank,” he says from his spot on the couch. 

He’s barely able to get the last part of Hank’s name out before he sees his partner furiously striding towards him. “What's wrong?” he asks coyly, batting his eyelashes. 

He receives a noise unlike a growl; it crawls out of Hank’s throat and travels down Connor’s back, sending a tingle spreading throughout. “You little slut,” Hank snarls, and before he knows it, Connor’s flipped upside down onto Hank’s shoulder. He flails his arms aimlessly for a second before going limp. Hank gives his ass a quick slap before marching to their bedroom. 

“Safeword?” Hank asks, sinking down in a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He’s still carrying Connor, his massive hands roaming all over Connor’s thighs and bottom. The feeling of Hank’s touch through the fabric of his jeans sends a shiver throughout his body. 

A beat of silence passes before he hears Connor squeak, “RA9”. 

A wicked expression possesses Hank’s face as he lifts the android off of his shoulder and over his lap. 

“Take your pants off for me, honey.” Hank crosses his arms over his chest as Connor scrambles to obey, lifting his hips hurriedly. As soon as he’s finished, jeans crumpled on the floor and creamy bottom on full display, Hank rubs a rough palm over his thighs and back. “You haven’t been a good boy, have you, Connor?” 

Connor allows a whimper to escape between his lips. “No, sir.”

Hank grins, his right hand grabbing handfuls of Connor’s ass. “Keep your hands together on your back. If you move them, I’ll leave you here, begging for more, and you won’t be able to come for a week. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir,” Connor says, and closes his eyes. 

“Count.”

“Yes, sir,” Connor murmurs again. He feels the cool air hit his bottom where Hank’s hand had been, and then a sharp pain as his hand comes down. “One,” he croaks, feeling the blood rushing down to his cock. 

Hank spanks him again and again, until he’s writhing on his lap, trying to gain friction on his leaking cock. “Seventeen. P-please, sir.”

Hank chuckles, raining down a series of swats along the tops of Connor’s thighs. The android moans out each number, syllables slurring together. “What do you want, baby?”

Connor’s mind is scrambling, filled with the muddled need for pleasure and pain. “I want more, please, give me more...” His words trail off into an incoherent whine as Hank slaps his right cheek with an incredible force. 

“Do you think you deserve more, slut?” Hank drags his left hand under Connor’s shirt and digs his fingernails into his side. 

“N-no, sir. I’ve been bad.” Connor sobs as Hank’s hand travels onto his chest, skirting around his nipple and instead resting at his stomach. The need to move his hands is overwhelming; he wants to move his hands off his back and stroke himself to completion. He can almost imagine it, rutting against Hank’s leg, wrapping a hand around his aching length, the burning fire in Hank’s eyes as he watches his submissive directly disobeying his orders. He’s barely starting to run a preconstruction before another spank to his bottom brings him back to reality. 

Hank’s hand rubs over Connor’s bottom, both cheeks tinged with the slightest blue. “You look so pretty, boy. So pretty over my lap, my handprints burned into your ass. Do you think you can take more?” 

Connor squeezes his eyes shut, Hank’s rumbling voice traveling straight to his cock. “Yes, sir.” 

“How many?” 

“Twenty, sir.” He wiggles his fingers, sore from grasping his own wrist. He loves the feeling of Hank’s hands on his body, fingernails scratching over his skin. He wants to be tossed around, used like the whore he is. 

The crack of Hank’s palm against his bottom makes him wail, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Connor counts, voice wavering, until they reach forty-one, and Hank’s hand, now fire-engine red, rests on his clothed back. Connor’s heaving for unnecessary breath, hands going slack. He can feel the strain of Hank’s dick against his stomach. He wants to take care of it, but he hasn’t been told to move his hands yet. 

Hank brushes his fingers lightly over Connor’s backside, causing the android to arch his back slightly in surprise. The older man grins sardonically. “Love seeing my marks on you, boy.”

Connor gives a plaintive moan, wriggling slightly over Hank’s lap. He feels a hand dart into his hair, pulling his head back roughly. “Color?” Hank grunts. 

“Green, sir.” God, Connor can feel his cock dripping onto the floor, the tip engorged and red, just begging for friction. Still, he really needs to come, so he waits patiently as Hank allows the stinging in his hand to abate. 

Three minutes pass until Hank straightens his back, digging his fingers into Connor’s scalp. “On the floor. Since you love being my little slut, you’re going to suck me off until I say you can stop.”

Connor perks up at this, almost jumping off of Hank’s lap to start. “Yes, sir,” he whispers, eager hands pulling the zip of Hank’s pants down. 

Hank’s cock is enormous. It’s thick all around, so much so that Connor has to stretch his fingers to wrap his hand around it, and long enough for him to feel it at the very back of his synthetic throat. The tip is already shiny and leaking copious amounts of precum down his length. Licking his lips, Connor grasps at Hank’s hips, and takes it down his throat. 

One of the benefits of being an android is the lack of a gag reflex, something that Connor definitely abuses on a regular basis. Being able to fully take Hank down is something that he takes pride in; satisfaction creeps into his eyes as he feels his mouth wrap around the base of Hank’s cock. Hank grasps at Connor’s hair again, thrusting into his face so that every inch of his cock disappears into the android’s mouth. “You feel so good, baby,” he sighs, and starts rocking into the tightness of Connor’s throat. 

The feeling doesn’t cause Connor any discomfort, but he feels tears prickling at his eyes anyway, fingers clenching rigidly over Hank’s sides. He hums, the vibrations causing Hank to throw his head back. “Fuck, boy,” he groans through clenched teeth. “You keep going like that, I’m not going to last much longer.”

Connor’s eyes gleam devilishly, tightening his throat canal so that it molds over Hank’s cock. The pressure causes Hank to roar, pushing once, twice, into Connor’s mouth and then stilling. He hasn’t come yet, but Connor can feel him throbbing, pushing against the walls of his neck. Bringing a hand up, he pushes against the distended skin and throatily moans.

With a hiss, Hank pulls out of the heat of Connor’s throat. He loosens his grip on Connor’s hair, both hands going back against the bed to stabilize himself. “Get me nice and wet, baby,” he pants, wrapping a hand loosely around his cock. 

Connor bends his head, allowing his thirium-based saliva to drip over the head of Hank’s dick. Hank spreads it liberally over his length, eyes darkening as he sees Connor’s reddened lips. 

“On the bed. Face the wall.” Hank moves to the front of the bed, still languidly stroking himself from base to tip. Connor crawls up, head facing the headboard, legs shaking with exertion. He hears the sheets rustling and feels the dip in the mattress as Hank pushes himself up to his knees behind him. 

“I’m going to fuck you until you know who you belong to,” Hank hisses, pushing the head of his cock into Connor’s hole and thrusting home. Connor moans loudly, the feeling of being filled up almost pushing him over the edge. He holds off, panting with deep breaths. 

“Yes, sir.” The android pushes his hips up, wanting Hank’s length deeper. Hank smirks darkly. 

“You’re a needy little slut.” 

Connor whines, earnestly nodding. “Yes, sir. I’m your slut.”

Hank growls, giving Connor’s already sore ass another light smack. “Gonna fuck you so good,” he’s saying, and then grasping Connor’s hips hard enough to mottle them with bruises. He hisses his breaths through his teeth, pistoning into Connor’s hole quicker and quicker until Connor’s a melting mess beneath him. 

“God... please,” Connor begs, hand reaching for his aching length. Hank slams into him one more time and stills, slapping Connor’s shaking hand away. 

“You don’t get to come until I say so. Do you understand me?” 

Connor almost cries with frustration, but manages to keep it together. “Y-yes, sir. I understand."

“Good.” Hank starts thrusting again, but nowhere near the pace he had previously set. He pulls all the way out, the tip barely brushing against Connor’s puckered, red hole, and then slowly pushes all the way back in. Keeping the slow tempo, he pushes at the bottom of Connor’s back until his back is arched, head slumped against the pillows, bottom tilted up. Hank drives into Connor once more, but this time... 

“A-ah! Please, more!” 

Hank laughs, the sound reverberating into Connor’s ears. “You like that spot, baby?” 

Connor nods furiously against the pillow, mouth falling open with pleasure as Hank continues to fuck into _ that _ spot, hips snapping back and forth quicker and quicker. They’re almost at that furious pace again, and Connor cries out, fingers twisting into the wrinkled sheets. “Can I come, please, sir, please!” he wails, babbling incoherently, feeling Hank’s hands tighten over the unbudging metal of his hips. 

Hank’s laugh devolves into a grunt as he continues thrusting into Connor. “You won’t come until I say so, slut,” he hisses, and pulls out of Connor’s tight heat. 

He almost sobs, sinking face first into the mattress underneath him. There’s a damp spot underneath him where he’s been leaking, but he can’t feel anything except the desperate _ need _ for release, to come, to feel Hank pumping roughly into him, using him for his own pleasure. 

With quivering arms, he turns around and sees Hank splayed out on the bed, one arm behind him to prop himself up, his other hand stroking up and down his length. The tip is shining with spit and precum. Connor licks his lips, Hank catching his gaze and smiling crookedly. He runs a thumb roughly over the head, spreading the slick so it drips down to the base. Connor feels breath leave his plastic lungs. 

“Use your mouth on me, baby. If you do a good job, I’ll let you come tonight.”

Hank’s voice is hoarse, but his rumbling timbre still makes Connor tremble with anticipation. He crawls, slowly, until he’s between Hank’s legs. Hank leans back on both of his elbows, leaving the android to stare at his bobbing cock. With one last lustful gaze thrown at the other man, Connor leans forward and swallows Hank down. Immediately, he starts to tighten his throat around Hank’s dick, increasing thirium flow to his throat to warm the canal. Hank groans deeply, grasping tightly at Connor’s hair. His fingers dig all the way to his scalp, forcing Connor up and down his cock. Connor’s eyes flutter shut, allowing Hank to use his mouth. His length is pulsing, and as it enters and exits, Connor uses his tongue to trace across a thick vein. “Fuck, Connor,” Hank says between gritted teeth. “Gonna make me come too fast. Wanna stay in your pretty hot mouth forever.” 

Connor hums, looking up at Hank from his eyelashes. He knows Hank’s close, so he squeezes his throat tighter again, and again, and again, until he feels the fingers in his hair tighten painfully. His mouth is pressed all the way to Hank’s base, and almost immediately, he feels the spurting of Hank’s cum all the way at the back of his throat. Connor tightens over his cock one more time before sliding his mouth off. Hank’s chest is visibly rising and falling, and as Connor’s gaze drifts up, catching the red splotching at Hank’s neck, and the way his mouth his slightly parted to allow for more breath. His eyes are glazed over until he catches Connor’s demanding figure. He looks for a second, and then reclines back onto both elbows. Connor stares hungrily at his figure, cock still straining up. He slides himself back until his back hits the headboard and sprawls himself out, spreading his legs apart and stretching his arms far above his head to grip at the top of the board. A few seconds pass until he speaks, allowing the other man to drink in the sight of him all bared and vulnerable. “I want you to wreck me, Hank,” he whispers. “Please, I’ve been a good boy. Make me feel good.” 

Hank’s eyes darken as he moves across the bed, closer and closer to Connor until he has an arm wrapped around Connor’s neck and a hand rubbing at the inside of Connor’s thigh. “I’ll give you what you want, boy,” he rumbles, and then pushes the fingers massaging at Connor’s legs into his hole. Connor cries out at the sensation of being filled up again. Hank crooks his fingers ever so slightly, and Connor screams. He can feel Hank’s harsh breaths against his cheek, and it’s all so much. 

“Touch yourself,” Hank says, and Connor almost falls apart as he touches his cock, stroking desperately from base to tip. Still quickly thrusting his fingers into Connor’s hole, Hank presses a kiss to the android’s cheek. “Such a good boy. You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

Hank’s incessant rubbing at his prostate, Hank’s sweet words, Hank’s proximity, it’s too much. Connor feels something overflowing in his chest, the sweet crest, and suddenly he’s coming so hard he thinks he sees stars. Disoriented, the last thing he feels are Hank’s lips softly mouthing at his neck until his systems shut down. 

It takes a few minutes for his systems to reboot, still shaky from the avalanche of notifications warning of his _ high temperature _. Connor awakens with a soft jolt, head coming up to fall back down onto a soft pillow. He registers the smoothing of a palm down the curve of his waist to the tops of his thighs, and tilts his head to the side to catch Hank’s fond grin. 

“Enjoy yourself, baby?” Hank rumbles, voice a little gruff. Connor can sense his exhaustion. 

“Yes, Hank.” He smiles sweetly as he shifts closer to bury his face in Hank’s chest. “Thank you.” 

Hank’s hand comes to run through the android’s hair. Connor can feel the other man’s heart beating and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes slightly harder than usual. Slowly, the breathing slows, and he knows Hank’s drifted off into sleep. He nudges a bit closer into Hank’s front and squeezes his eyes shut. There’s something large in his chest, something overwhelming. He can’t discern what it is, nor place a word to it. Still, he thinks that he’d just like to stay in this moment for a while. His feelings can be left to the morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you'd like, please leave a kudos/comment and let me know what you think!!!!! thanks so much for reading :')) i appreciate you for making it all the way through!!!!!


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